The Old Warrior
by DonaldDouglasandToby6
Summary: It's a quiet night at the Skarloey Railway Sheds, so Bertram decides to lighten the mood with the tale of how he became "The Old Warrior" in the first place, involving my own backstory.


The narrow gauge engine shed is usually very noisy, with Sir Handel or Duncan complaining about something, or an engine talking about their day.

But tonight, nobody said a word, except for the occasional "Do something," by Duncan.

Just then, the engines heard the noise of a whistle and an engine coming towards them.

"Must be Bertram," remarked Duke, "He got the night shift."

"Joy," muttered Sir Handel.

Bertram grinned as he backed into a berth.

"Hello everyone! Lovely night we're having, isn't it? Nice stars. If we're lucky, we might see a comet, or a planet, or a spaceship!"

Nobody answered, except a cough by Skarloey and a grunt by Duncan.

Bertram blinked and rose an eyebrow, confused.

"What's up with you engines?" he asked, "You haven't talked much tonight! Usually there's some kind of racket in here!"

"We're bored," muttered Peter Sam, "There's nothing interesting to talk about. Duncan's complaining doesn't help either."

"Do something," Duncan huffed angrily.

"Hmm... This isn't right... No, it certainly is not... We must do something about it!" Bertram declared.

"Like what?" asked Rusty blankly.

"Good question... Surely, The Old Warrior can get you chaps to speak somehow? Perhaps a poem about the night. 'Night is dark, day is light. I like to bark, but not to fight.'."

"So... are you supposed to be a dog or something?" asked Peter Sam.

"No, I'm just supposed to make it rhyme," said Bertram, "But on the plus side, it's a good conversation-starter. Just what 'The Old Warrior' is meant to do."

An idea popped into Rusty's head as he realized a burning question was within him.

"Why do they call you 'The Old Warrior' anyway?" the little Diesel asked.

Bertram lowered his eyebrow, grinning.

"Yeah, I've wondered that too." agreed Freddie, "Surely it wasn't out of the blue. Unless you gave the name to himself."

Peter Sam chuckled.

"I hereby declare myself an old warrior and a dog!"

The three engines laughed, while Bertram smiled broadly.

"Ha ha, I didn't give myself the nickname, fellows. But I can tell you the story if you'd like."

"Yes please," said Rusty earnestly.

"We'd love to hear it," added Freddie.

"When I said 'do something', I didn't mean give Bertram more ammo to keep us up all night..." Duncan muttered.

"Shut up Duncan," glared Rusty.

Bertram cleared his throat.

"Well... It all started back when I worked on the Mid Sodor Railway-"

"You worked on the Mid Sodor Railway?" interrupted Duncan.

"Why do you care? You never liked Bertram," grinned Rusty.

Duncan blushed.

"...shut up."

"Oh, I did work back then, yes. Duke here can confirm it. Can't you, Duke?"

"Yes, of course," said Duke, "Continue on, Bertram."

So Bertram began his story.

"Back in the day, there were many engines on the Mid Sodor Railway. We had many engines: Stuart, Falcon-"

"Oh that's me!" said Peter Sam.

"...yes, yes it is. Anyway, there were also Smudger, me, and Duke of course, but there were also engines people don't know about as much. There were also Tim, Jim, Albert, Jerry, and The Mines Engine."

"Well, that's the blandest name ever," said Freddie, "'The Mines Engine'? So degrading. Must be embarrassing for the poor fellow."

"...indeed. Anyway, I worked at the railway's quarry, bringing slate down the mountain to Arlesdale, where the Small Engines roam now. Smudger helped me there. Kind of. Smudger was a very troublesome and rude engine, a bit like Duncan."

"Hey!"

* * *

The controller gave a stern talking to Smudger, with Stuart, Falcon, Bertram and Duke listening intently.

"You were horrible with the coaches, Smudger," he scolded, "You could barely get them to the platform without derailing!"

"In the states, we don't care," said Smudger.

"Pretty sure America's smarter than that, but it seems you aren't," retorted the manager, "We need to give you a job where you can't screw up. We can't afford to give you away, unless we sell you... But who'd want you?"

"...thanks for that."

"How about he work at the quarry with you, Bertram?" the manager asked, pointing at Bertram, "I think you could help him in some way."

Bertram was worried, but didn't want to let down his controller.

"Yes sir. I'll try to make him a Really Useful Comrade, sir!"

"Actually it's 'engine', but... nice try. Smudger, don't cause trouble..."

And the manager walked away.

"Good luck with him," teased Falcon and he rushed away.

"You'll need it!" grinned Stuart and he raced after Falcon.

Duke glared at Smudger.

"I trust Bertram will keep an eye on you..."

Duke followed suit, rushing to collect The Picnic.

Bertram grinned nervously at Smudger.

"So, friend, ready to go?"

Smudger just stared blankly.

Soon, Bertram was shunting trucks at the quarry, while Smudger biffed into them.

"Eh, stupid trucks." grunted Smudger, "Why does the controller always give me the boring work? I want passengers!"

"Because you're too rough," Bertram replied, "Passengers don't trust you; you'd knock them out of their seats! Like this morning. Remember what the controller said?"

"Yes, yes, I know... I don't care though."

"Besides, trucks aren't boring," continued Bertram, "Some are quite interesting. Like that old truck over there."

"And so, the workman put a crate of fruit into me, and then he took a bite of his sandwich."

"Wow!"

"You're amazing!"

"I know, I know."

Smudger scoffed.

"Pah! About as exciting as watching the manager shave..."

The green tank engine bumped the trucks crossly.

The trucks grunted and bumped into each other.

"That'll teach the little rascals. You see," Smudger boasted, "in America, trucks behave properly. Not like these little devils you have here."

"Hey, we're still lovable," cried a truck defensively, "We're very nice! We like listening to other trucks tell their fascinating tales of being loaded with random things, like shoes, fruit or wood!"

Bertram frowned as he puffed alongside Smudger.

"Be careful," Bertram warned him, "Too much of a bump and the trucks will fly straight into the buffers and into the wall!"

"So?"

"The quarry walls are a bit unstable after that storm we had last week. One crash and you'll be buried faster than you can say 'Smudger, the controller wants you.'"

"That's not funny!" scowled Smudger.

Smudger was so cross with Bertram that he hadn't heeded the warning at all, and was more concerned about being made fun of.

"Stupid 'comrade'..." he fumed.

He couldn't take his anger out on Bertram, so he decided to take his anger out on the trucks instead.

Smudger rushed forward and smashed into the slate trucks.

He smirked as the trucks raced forward, through the quarry yard and into a siding, screeching and wailing.

"That'll show 'em..."

Suddenly, the trucks crashed straight through some buffers and slammed into the quarry wall with a loud thump.

"Ow..." groaned the trucks, "We'll... pay you out someday..."

Bertram froze and looked ahead, paling.

"Oh no..."

Smudger suddenly remembered what Bertram had said earlier about the quarry walls being unstable.

"...oops." he said meekly.

The vibrations from the trucks hitting the wall had shook some rocks and some pebbles started to tumble down onto the quarry floor.

Some hit Smudger on the boiler.

"Ow! Hey, watch it! Ow! Oh gosh, all these dents!"

Bigger rocks started to come down, and one hit Smudger on the cab.

"Ow! My paint! I just got it lookin' all nice and fancy!"

"Look out!" Bertram cried as he noticed more rock coming down, "Workmen, quick! Climb into my trucks! There's a rockslide!"

The alarm was sounded and the workmen quickly raced into the trucks.

Bertram whistled and puffed on bravely towards the entrance of the quarry.

But then, he suddenly remembered something.

"Oh no! We've forgotten Smudger!" he exclaimed in horror.

"Help!" yelled Smudger from behind him, "Please, do something! I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry, I'll help!" Bertram said bravely as he started puffing backwards.

"No," cried the driver, "It's too risky! We may get smashed to bits, and I'd prefer to be in one piece!"

"The least we can do is try!" Bertram replied, "Smudger is still an engine!"

The trucks bumped into Smudger and a workmen coupled him up with haste.

"Hurry!" Smudger yelled in desperation, "I don't want to get crushed!"

"Quick, let's hurry!" Bertram cried as they raced out of the quarry, just in time.

Rocks and boulders started to demolish everything from trucks to the buildings.

Smudger was so shocked that he was speechless as he watched the destruction.

"Bubbling boilers..." he stuttered.

Bertram's wheels whirred as they scurried down the line.

"We're safe now!" he panted as he started to slow down, "Hurrah! What an adventure!"

Smudger smiled weakly.

When the two engines got to King Orry's Bridge, Smudger was beyond grateful, but wasn't sure how to say "Thanks".

"Um... Bertram?"

"Yes?"

"I... don't understand why you saved me like that. I didn't deserve it after being so rude to you." Smudger said sadly.

"Of course you did," Bertram replied, "Every engine needs to be safe on this island, even if they aren't the most pleasant of engines...!"

Smudger grinned, but then bumped into the trucks.

Bertram jerked forward.

"What was that for?" he cried.

"Consider it a 'thank you'". Smudger chortled.

Bertram, getting Smudger's meaning, laughed.

That night, at Arlesdale, the Manager came to see the engines.

"Well, Bertram, I heard all about what you did for Smudger, and considering the engine he is, that is saying something." he said.

Smudger grinned sheepishly.

"Indeed!" agreed Falcon, "I probably couldn't have done that!"

"So, I think you deserve a reward." said the Manager, and he presented two medals.

"These are for your crew," the manager explained, and he handed them to Bertram's driver and fireman.

"Thank you very much, sir," said the driver, "But it was really mostly Bertram."

"I know. So this, Bertram, is for you." the manager grinned as he handed a plaque to Bertram's driver.

"Wow, look at this, ol' boy!" the driver said and he waved it in front of Bertram's face.

The golden plaque had a picture of Bertram and the words "Bertram, The Old Warrior and Hero of the Narrow Gauge Engines." at the bottom.

Bertram was speechless and sniffed a bit.

"Wow, sir... I don't know what to say!" Bertram said as a small tear of joy ran down his cheek.

Stuart, Falcon, and Smudger whistled for the now declared "Old Warrior".

Duke grinned as he looked at his friend.

"You did well, Bertram... You did well..."

"Thanks Duke," said Bertram with a smile.

* * *

Bertram ended his story, as memories came back to him, making him a bit emotional.

"I still have that plaque today... It was saved and brought back to me after I resumed services here..."

"Wow..." said Mighty with awe.

"Did everyone escape?" asked Rusty.

Bertram smiled.

"Yep! The workmen said I was very brave to help them and Smudger too. That's why they call me 'The Old Warrior!' I mean, besides it being on the plaque and all."

Even Sir Handel was impressed.

"To be honest, I've completely forgotten about that... But now I remember."

"But this still raises the question: How did you get to this railway?" asked Peter Sam, "I mean, Sir Handel and I came here, and we all know Duke, but how did you end up at the Mines?'

Bertram chuckled.

"When the railway closed, I was sent to an old mine near Ffarquhar Road. I worked there, guarding the mine like a knight in shining armor. But soon people forgot about me, and I was alone with my crew and a select few workmen who were brave enough to stay. For years, I haven't the faintest idea what happened. Then, one day, I heard that the mine was being reopened. A few nights later, a nice little tram engine was on guard too and he found me. I was restored to my former glory and brought here."

The engines were impressed.

"Sounds like you've had many adventures," chuffed Freddie.

"Yes indeed," grinned Bertram, "We all have our adventures. Now for some poetry..."

"No! I cross the line there!" cried Duncan.

"Maybe we should just get some rest," suggested Mac, "It is nearly midnight, after all."

"Oh, alright, just tonight," chuckled Bertram.

Soon, the engines soon fell asleep.

All except for Bertram, who looked back at the plaque and smiled as he closed his eyes.


End file.
